


One Safe Place In The World

by theappleppielifestyle



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe: High School, Drinking, M/M, abuse but it's not intense, highschool!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-31
Updated: 2012-03-31
Packaged: 2017-11-02 19:23:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/372494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theappleppielifestyle/pseuds/theappleppielifestyle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So it hits him like a two-by-four when a boy with the most stunning, electric blue eyes and perpetual sex hair walks purposefully into his second period English class about thirty seconds before it ends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

In retrospect, it starts out as an incredibly normal year.

Dean Winchester wakes up to his mom yelling at him from down the stairs; she threatens that if he doesn't get up in the next four seconds, she will pour the leftover bacon grease from breakfast into his pajamas.

Dean slogs out of bed, bumping into the door frame on his way out, and makes it down the stairs without falling asleep on the banister. He collapses into a chair and groggily starts on his breakfast.

"Hey, that's mine!"

Sam, Dean's little brother by two years, grabs the bowl Dean had taken two spoonfuls from, and glares at him stonily.

Dean yawns. "Piss off, Sasquatch, I know you're a growing boy and need your daily nutrition, but I'm very tired and I'm bigger than you, so give me back the fucking Wheaties."

That is a lie - Even though he is only 15, Sam has surpassed everyone in his family by height. He is currently half an inch taller than their dad, John, who is about the same height as Dean.

Sam shoves a box of Count Chocula at him, scowling.

"Hey now, don't rip each other to shreds this early in the morning." Their mother, Mary, hands Dean the milk and the obligatory plate of bacon. "Besides, it's the first day of school. We're not allowed to dissolve into absolute chaos until the SATS start."

Dean groans and rests his head on the table.

\--

Dean smothers a laugh as Sam climbs into the Impala.

Sam frowns. "What?"

Dean's mouth twitches. "Nothing. It's just halarious watching you adjust to those huge antelope limbs you grew over summer vacation."

"Ha, ha."

They ride to school with AC/DC bl;aring and Sam cringing the whole way there. Its the first day of Dean's last year at Lawrence High school, and Sam's second. This time next year Dean will be- Fuck, he doesn't even know. College doesn't seem like an option, but he can't spend his whole life at Bobby's mechanic shop. Lawrence is a piss-poor excuse for a town. It has one mall, a hospital, and a swimming pool. The nearest movie theatre is a few miles away. Lawrence is not the kind of town anyone wants to get stuck in; and everyone gets out as fast as they can after high school ends.

Which is only a year away for Dean.

_Fuck._

To drown out his thoughts, Dean starts singing along to the radio as loud as he can. Sam claps his hands over his ears and yells at him to stop the whole time they look for a carpark.

\--

After making a comment about how long Sam's hair was getting and getting a halfhearted hit on the shoulder for it, Dean leaves for homeroom. "Bitch," He yells over his shoulder. He smirks as he enters his homeroom, hearing Sam's "JERK!" echo through the halls behind him.

Dean flops down next to Jo.

Jo is Dean's best friend. They met when John, Dean's dad, brought home his friend Bobby (or Uncle Bobby, as Dean would come to call him) from work. Jo had stood behind her mother, Ellen, the whole time. Dean, sensing an easy target, snuck up behind Jo. Jo promptly shoved him and started whaling on him as much as a four-year-old can whale on another four-year old. Dean spent the whole time in a sort of shocked daze before shoving his hands over his face and screaming, "DADDY TOLD ME NOT TO HIT GIRLS! AHH! AHHHH!"

"You look like shit," Jo says.

"And you look like a ray of sunshine." Dean leans back as far as his chair will go.

"No, seriously. Did you get any sleep last night?"

"Yes."

"Whatever. I bet you were having phone sex with Lisa."

"I don't have phone sex. I have old-fashioned, regular sex, like normal people. And we're not even together anymore."

Jo stares. "Wait, what?"

Crap. "Uh. She, um. Brokeupwithme," he mumbles the last few words so they garble together.

"What?! Why! You're a hot peice of ass!" Jo flutters her eyelashes mockingly at him.

"Thanks. Nah, she just said 'things weren't working out.' Whatever that's supposed to mean."

Jo is silent for a moment, contemplating. "I bet she's a lesbian."

Dean barks out a laugh. "Yeah, you wish."

Jo slaps him in the back of the head just as the bell rings.

\--

Dean was 12 when he started noticing girls. The way they moved; the curves of their necks, hips, shoulders. The fullness of their breasts; the way they tucked their bottom lip under their teeth sometimes.

He was 14 when he started noticing guys. It was easy to ignore, at first - he glanced at them sometimes during class, or on the street. He was shocked into silence one time at a flash of a hipbone at the library as someone stretched for a book. He finally decided it was a regular thing after he walked into a pole because he was too busy checking out a hot eighteen year old instead of looking where he was going. So, he decided to viciously ignore it and pile it down under boatloads of denial.

In the classic Dean Winchester way, of course.

So it hits him like a two-by-four when a boy with the most stunning, electric blue eyes and perpetual sex hair walks purposefully into his second period English class about thirty seconds before it ends.

He passes Dean's table , staring at him with a slightly confused expression as he does, and Dean realises with a jolt that yes, he is in fact gaping. He snaps his jaw shut as the teacher says "Class, we have a new student at Lawrence High." She turns to the guy, who has taken a seat a few tables away. "This is...?"

"Castiel," the guy says, and holy fucking shit, Dean takes back everything he had ever said about phone sex, because this guy's voice is like gravel and lightning striking and everything arousing ever and Dean's dick jumps as he spoke.

"Castiel," Mrs Mills repeats. "That's-"

"A strange name, yes," Castiel agrees. "I'm just here for my schedule; I was told you handled that. I apoligize for being late."

"Dean."

Dean jerks in his seat and tears his gaze away from Castiel to where Jo is staring at him with raised eybrows.

"What?" Dean says quickly, trying to recite Metellica lyrics in his head. The last thing he needs was to be remembered as 'that guy that stood up at the end of class with a raging boner because some new guy in class introduced himself.'

"You look like you're going to pass out," Jo says.

"Uh-huh," Dean is only half paying attention.

Jo stares at him for a bit longer before the bell rings and Dean almost runs from the classroom.

\--

Ash and Chuck are already waiting for them in the cafeteria at their usual table when Dean and Jo come in.

"Where's Sammy?" Dean asks as he slides into a crappy chair and takes a bite out of his sandwich.

"He's a sophomore, dude," Ash reminds him. "They don't get lunch for another half an hour, because they're not incredibly awesome and  
sexy seniors, like us."

"Yeah, your mullet is such a babe magnet," Jo takes a gulp of juice. "I often have to stop myself from climbing over and ravaging you, you big manly man, you."

"And don't you forget it," Ash grins and flips his hair over his shoulders.

Chuck coughs 'weirdo' into his hand and Ash kicks his chair.

There is the usual lot around the cafeteria - Gordon, Walt and Ava around one table, then next to them sit Meg, Bela, Ruby and Crowley. Victor, Ed, Harry and Becky at the next, who are cool, sort of. And then Tessa and Pamela always sit together. Honestly, it was Ava and her gang that creeps Dean out the most. Ava and Walt are siblings, and their dad apparently owned a whorehouse. He's called Alastir.

"Hey, who's the new kid?"Ash jerks his thumb towards Castiel, who had just walked into the cafeteria.

Dean very pointedly tries not to notice how his breathing hitches as he says, "His name's Castiel. Dunno anything else about him."

"Seriously?" Chuck frowns. "It's been all over the school. I don't know how you guys could've missed it."

"I haven't heard anything about it," Ash says.

"Neither," Jo wipes a peice of fruit off her chin.

"Yeah- well- obviously none of you are in the know," Chuck splutters.

"Or you're really Gretchen Weiners with short hair who knows too much about everyone," Dean ignores that he had just made a Mean Girls reference (Jo was bored and there was nothing else to watch, shut up) and steamrolleres on. "So, what's the deal with him?"

They watch as Castiel sits down at a table with three other people.

"He and his family just moved here from Michigan," Chuck says. "Some rich dicks who thought it'd be nice to slum it, probably. That's the eldest, Michael." He points at a broad, black-haired boy sitting stiffly. "He's not meant to be at school; he's meant to be at college now, but he has a learning disability or some shit. Then there's Gabriel-" Short, brown hair, weird lips and a lollipop between them- "And Anna. They're twins; seniors with Michael."

Ooh. Anna is hot. Not as hot as Cas, but- what? Not as hot as Castiel- but still hot. Dean had never had a thing for redheads, but her hair is seductive as it tumbles over her shoulders.

"Castiel's meant to be a junior, but he skipped a year, so they're all seniors, which is kind of creepy. Their dad's called Zachariah, or something. Makes sense, judging by all the weird names. Their last name's Granger."

Jo frowns. "As in Hermionie?"

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Geek."

"Fuck off, Dean."

\--

The next few months pass calmly. Well, as calmly as they can with the Winchesters. One time, Dean gets so frustrated with studying that he throws half his science notes out the window and burns the other half. Actually, literally burns them. In the driveway. And then there are the usual screaming matches between Sam and John, and Sam almost crashes the Impala when Dean takes him out for a driving lesson. Dean makes him get out of the car before wrestling him to the ground and sitting on him for four minutes. Christmas is good- Dean is given the Impala for real, and spends a good eight seconds after being told that just blinking at his Dad, before saying slowly, "Huh?"

New Years comes and goes, and Dean doesn't get a kiss. Instead, he goes to a bonfire his school is hosting and watches his brother get his very first kiss from a blonde named Jessica, who is a freshman. Dean still chuckles when he remembers the stunned expression on his baby brother's face after Jess had nervously stared at him during the countdown to New Years- Sam was still smiling at that point, oblivious- and then Jess had put one hand behind his head; leaned up and kissed Sam full on the lips as everyone shouted, "HAPPY NEW YEEEEEAR!" Jess had drawn back after a few seconds, and Sam's eyes were almost comically wide.

Then comes the first Wednesday after New Years.

Dean finishes his morning oogle at Cas- he calls him Cas in his head, he can't help it- and starts to the cafeteria. He sits with Jo, Chuck and Ash for half an hour before Sam and Jess join them. They bring Andy along- a weird but funny sophomore who is in Sam's algebra class.

A conversation at a table a few metres away jolts them out of their own talk, and after a few seconds, everyone in the cafeteria is looking towards Ava's table. Ava is screaming at her brother, who has his fists curled.

"THEY'RE IN MY HEAD, ALL THE TIME," Ava sobs. "ALL THE TIME! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE, YOU DON'T KNOW-"

The cafeteria shares a collective gasp as Ava pulls a gun from her jacket pocket with shaking hands. Everyone tenses.

"Ava," Walt says slowly.

"I just want it to stop," Ava wails. "I just want the voices to stop-"

She puts the gun to her head.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Dean is one of the many who said something in those seconds, but he is the only one who stands up at this point.

"Calm down," Dean says, feeling like an idiot, but also very nervous of the gun she has in her tiny hands.

"Ava, don't-" Sam starts to say, and Ava quickly points the gun at him. Sam freezes, and Dean feels his heart start to pound. He takes a step towards where she is pointing the gun. She sees him, and turns the gun towards him.

"Don't try to stop me," Ava begs. "Please. I just want it to be over."

"Ava-" Sam says, but he is cut off by two things.

The first thing is that Ava screams and points the gun back at him.

The second is Dean's yell of "NO!" as he throws himself in front of him. It is guttural; anamalistic.

The shot rattles everyone to their bones. It feels like a static shock sent to ground everyone to the floor.

There is a quiet, almost serene millisecond before everyone bursts into motion.

There is blood. Dean is sure. Blood means pain, and he is feeling a lot of it. It is like all his nerve endings  
are sanded down.

_Sammysammysammysammysa-_

He catches flashes of colour; noise; voilent and shifting and scraping.

He isn't sure of anything. Where he is; who he is- there should be sky, he realises. He is looking up. Up  
meant sky. There should be clouds. Aeroplanes. He hates aeroplanes.

But there should be sky.

There should be sky.

Sky is blue.

And there is, in the cafeteria ceiling, but not.

Blue.

So vivid, and so much of it that he thinks the world should be drowning in it.

Slipping. He is falling; or being dragged- he can't tell which.

LIke listening through mud; a ragged, struggling voice: _Dean? Dean, can you hear me?_

Gravel and lightning and full of blue, sitting in his English class in second period every Monday and Wednesday.

"Hey, Cas," Dean murmurs, and falls, or slips, or is dragged; he can't tell which.

\--

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

The beeping on the heart moniter continues, and Castiel knots his hands together nervously. Dean still hasn't woken up. The bullet, apparently, hasn't done any permanent damage.

" _Permanent damage?_ He got _shot!"_ Dean's mother, Mary had yelled when the doctor had said that.

Castiel felt for the poor doctor, he really didn't deserve all the screaming that was being directed at him. He looked horribly tired; rubbing a hand over his face and checking his clipboard every few seconds like it could give him the answer. Not that the Winchesters were screaming at him. Mary had had that one outburst and then she had gone quiet; John rubbing her on the back.

Sam, a sophomore, had taken the seat next to Castiel, staring numbly at the wall. Well, staring numbly at the wall for the first few minutes.  
Then it had switched to angry staring. Then worried staring.

Castiel didn't know there was that many kinds of staring, but Sam Winchester is doing every single one.

"You're Castiel?"

Castiel looks up. Mary is standing there tearfully; John is stiff at the door with a gruff-looking man wearing a cap; who Castiel assumes is Bobby because he has a hand around Jo's shoulder.

Castiel shifts nervously; he was never good with emotions, or even looking at others displaying emotions. Castiel stands.

"Mrs. Winchester, I am very sorry about your s-"

Mary surges forward and wraps her arms around him, startling him.

"Thank you for stopping her," Mary seems to be on the verge of tears.

"I'm sorry I didn't get there sooner," Castiel mumbles regretfully, which is odd, because Castiel doesn't usually mumble, or admit things like that. At a loss on what to do, he rubs her between her shoulderblades for a few seconds until she lets go.

She kisses him on the forehead, and Castiel wonders weakly if he could take any more surprises today.

"Sam, are you coming?" John askes. "We're not going to be any use here. The doctors say he'll he okay."

Sam glares at him feircely. Castiel feels sorry for the wall.

"I'm staying here till Dean wakes up," He says.

"Sam-"

"He got shot for me, Dad!" Sam bursts, and stops abruptly.

John gives him a long look, and Sam holds his gaze.

"Call us when he wakes up, son," Bobby says, and Sam nods, somehow more warm to him than to his own father.

"Do you need a lift?" John asks Castiel.

Castiel shakes his head. "No, thank you."

Bobby squeezes Jo's shoulder, and they all start to walk away.

Jo turns as they walk out the doors, and shoots Castiel a weak smile.

Then it is just Castiel and Sam in the room with an unconcious Dean and the beep beep beep of the machine.

"Thanks," Sam blurts, and Castiel looks at him.

"For getting the gun off her and.. everything," Sam's gaze drops to Castiel's left shoulder.

As Dean had shoved himself in front of Sam, Castiel had ran at Ava and pushed her down just as her finger was tightening on the trigger.  
The doctor said that if he hadn't done that, the bullet would've went through Dean's neck and killed him instantly. The bullet had caught Castiel in the shoulder; but it had only skimmed it and then had went for Dean. Castiel has been told that it will heal in a few weeks.

Honestly, Castiel doesn't know why he had done it. He's not heroic. He doesn't like to stand out in a crowd. He is fine with blending in; he's been doing it his whole life. He hadn't even thought about getting the gun off of Ava when she had pulled it out. There were plently other people more willing, more strong. A teacher should've done it. There were two teachers in the cafeteria at the time; but they were on the other side. One of them had dialed 911; the other had helped Sam stop his brother from bleeding out while the paramedics got there.

Castiel shifts his shoulder carefully; poking tenderly at the gauze with his right hand.

"Is it bad?" Sam asks anxiously.

_Not as bad as your brother's wound._

"I will be fine. It is a flesh wound." He pauses. "Although it does 'hurt like a bitch,' as my brother Gabriel would say."

That startles a laugh out of Sam.

They sit there in silence for a few seconds, which is fine for Castiel, but Sam breaks it by saying:

"So, how are you getting home?"

Castiel swallows. "I think I will just stay here overnight and go to school in the morning."

"Okay." Sam nods awkwardly. "Uh- big family, huh?"

"Pardon?"

"Your family. You have three siblings?"

"Oh. Yes. Four, actually. My older brother, Lucifer, left us some time ago."

"That sucks," Sam mutters sympathetically.

"Yes," Castiel nods.

Sam frowns. "Your names are all biblical, right?"

"Yes. We are all named after angels. My family is- very religious. My name was originally Cassiel; but my mother liked my version best."

"And Anna, that's-" Sam squints, trying to remember. "Anael, right?"

"You've read the Bible?"

Sam shrugs. "I'm a mythology geek." He catches Castiel's eye and backtracks wildly. "Not- not that what you believe in is, uh, a myth, I'm- I mean, I'm Christian, but I read about other religions, too, and, uh-"

"You have not offended me Sam," Castiel says. "I am not concerned about your beliefs."

Another brief silence- Castiel breaks it this time. "Your brother must care about you very much."

Sam half-smiles, and then looks guilty for it. "He's my big brother."

He doesn't continue, so Castiel assumes this is Winchester speak for 'I love him.'

Sam clears his throat and Castiel looks at him.

"I'm not trying to offend you or anything, but do you pray?"

"Yes."

Sam focuses intently on the ceiling. "Would you mind if we prayed now?"

"I would like that."

Castiel watches as Sam closes his eyes; clasps his hands together and rests his chin on them; his lips moving in silent words.

Castiel puts his hands in his lap, but instead of closing his eyes he keeps them on the rise and fall of Dean's chest as he breathes. He remembers the slippery press of blood on his shoulder; on Dean's stomach. The pain had been intense. He remembers Dean's eyes not focusing; instead they shifted restlessly. Castiel remembers, but he's still not sure: "Hey, Cas..." and then Dean's eyes had fluttered closed and Sam had been yelling at him to wake up and someone had told him to keep pressure on the wound. At first he had thought they meant Dean's; but then the pain in his shoulder had made him queasy as someone pushed on it.

\--

Castiel's phone buzzes erratically in the pocket of his jeans, making both him and Sam jerk awake.

"I apoligize," Castiel says quickly to Sam, and ducks out of the room. He sees the blinking name on the screen and flips it open.

"Gabriel."

"Little bro! Where the holy heck are you?"

"I'm still at the hospital."

"It's three in the morning!"

"I'm staying until Dean wakes up."

"Whatever tickles your fancy." Pause. "Dad's pissed, by the way."

Castiel sighs. "I am not surprised."

"Is that Castiel? Can I talk to him?" Anna's voice is muffled in the backround.

Gabriel mutters something, and Castiel listens as there is a scuffle and finally:

"Castiel! Are you OK? Are they giving you enough pain medication?" Anna says worriedly.

Castiel bites back a smile. "I am fine, Anna. They just need to re-dress the wound in a couple of hours."

Anna groans. "I am so sorry that we couldn't stay with you, Castiel! Oh, doesn't matter that you _saved someone's fucking life,_ Dad still had to  
go on for half an hour about not making a scene, how you should've _let others handle it, it was very foolish,_ for fuck's sake-"

"Dad is an asshole, we all know this," Gabriel says from Anna's end. "Can we go back to sleep now and leave our little Castiel with Sleeping Beauty?"

_I'm not little, I'm only a year younger than you and I went through puberty before you did,_ Castiel thinks to himself, irritated.

"We'll see you at school tomorrow." Gabriel says.

Anna pipes up indigantly. "Like hell we will! He got shot, Gabe! He needs to rest!"

"I got shot in my left arm, Anna, I'm right handed-"

"Shut up. I'll get Dad to call the school. We'll come see you at the hospital at lunch, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you, Anna."

\--

Dean hates swimming as much as he hates flying. He could swim if he had to, but he always had a part of his brain that screamed _"YOUAREGOINGTODIEYOUSTUPIDBASTARDGETOUTOFTHEWATERHOLYSHIT"_  
so he didn't really do it often.

Waking up, he concludes, is like coming up for air, but gulping a huge mouthful of ocean instead.

His tongue is thick in his mouth; his eyes feel like they have stones on them to weigh them down. He feels kind of numb all over. He pries his eyes open with a considerable effort.

"Sammy?"

Sam flails- literally flails in his chair, waking up. He blinks and sees that Dean is looking at him, and blanches. "Holy shit, Dean!"

"What?" Dean mumbles. "Takes more than a- a gunshot thing to keep me down." He tries to sit up and fails miserably. "What happened?"

"You're an idiot, that's what happened," Sam says shakily. "What the fuck were you thinking, Dean? She was crazy! She had a gun!"

"I was thinking ' _wow, my brother's amazingly stupid, trying to reason with a crazy gun lady.'"_

"You did it first!"

"I'm a idiot; we've discussed this!"

"She SHOT you!"

"You're welcome," Dean says. "Bitch."

"Jerk."

Both brothers dissolve into silence.

"So," Dean pushes himself up the bed so he's leaning against the wall. "Since my account of what happened is kind of fuzzy: what happened?"

"Ava's in a psychiatric ward," Sam says. "And you would've died, by the way, if Castiel didn't push her, so you might want to thank hi-"

"What?" Dean's brain short-circuts. He remembers blue eyes and he remembers thinking stupid things about them. "Is he oka-"

"You're awake."

Both Sam and Dean turn to the door where Castiel had entered, phone in hand.

Castiel wavers near the door. "Ah, if you do not wish me to be here-"

"No, no! Stay!" Dean says it embarassingly loud, and cringes. "Uh, mind explaining what happened? Sam was halfway though it."

Castiel nods professionally. "I pushed Ava as she shot you. The bullet grazed my shoulder and hit you in the stomach."

It strikes Dean how freaking casual he says it.

"I'm gonna go ring Mom and Dad and tell them you're awake," Sam rushes out of the room.

"Well, thanks," Dean says weakly to Castiel, the words you would've died ringing in his head.

How the fuck do you thank someone for saving your life?!

_Mm, I can think of a few ways to say thanks to you,_ the perverted part of Dean's brain supplies helpfully, and Dean gives himself a mental  
slap.

"You're welcome," Castiel says, apparently finding it satisfactory, and turns to leave.

"Why'd you do it?" Dean blurts before he can stop himself.

Castiel frowns as he turns back. "Do what?"

"Save me."

Castiel's frown deepens. "Because you're worth saving."

He's said about three sentances to him, and already Dean finds himself speechless. Dean realises that Castiel is that kind of person.

"I- thanks," Dean splutters again.

Again, Cas starts to leave, but Dean almost yells: "Hey, you can stay if you want."

Castiel looks surprised as he turns this time.

"I mean, I guess I'm not going to be going to school for a while, and it's, what, 4 in the morning? And my brother will probably just sit and  
quote Monty Python at me, and I can't feel anything below my neck, and you got shot, too, so you shouldn't go to school."

Castiel blinks at him and Dean feels like an absolute idiot; but he can't exactly take it all back now.

"It would be nice to stay," Castiel says slowly, like he's trying the words out.

A wave of relief crashes over Dean as Castiel sits back in the hospital chair.

"So... have any hobbies, Cas? Talents? Weird OCD?" Dean blames the painkillers he's on for his increasing awkwardness.

Castiel tilts his head at Dean in confusion.

"What?"

"You called me Cas. That's twice now; you did it first after you got shot."

"Oh. Uh, sorr-"

"I don't mind." Castiel half-smiles and Dean's heart thuds.

"But people have called you Cas before, right? I mean, no offense, but your name's kinda a mouthful, dude."

Again, the quizzical head tilt. "Not really. My whole life, everyone's just called me Castiel."

There is a pause before he continues in a matter-of-fact tone: "I do not have any hobbies or OCD, either. As for talents, I can knot a cherry stem with my tongue."

Dean bursts out into surprised laughter, which is murder on his ribs and hurts like hell.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas comes out of the shop; gravel and lightning, full of blue, sitting next to Dean in the Impala and lying lazily next to him in shitty motels.

So for the next month, that's what it's like. Sam, Cas and Jo come in everyday to see Dean (Cas brings him homework- "You're a senior, Dean, it's very important,") and Ash and Chuck come in a few times a week. Alastir makes an appearance, and Dean is still majorly creeped out by him. He’s weirder than his kids.

“I am… awfully _sorry_ about this,” He had said in a strangely sing-song voice. “Our family has a history of mental illness, you see.”

John had, very firmly, asked him to leave.

“There was just something about him that made me want to punch him and then wash my hands after,” Jo had said afterwards, scrunching up her face.

“Amen,” Mary had muttered, and everyone had stared at her.

They met Anna, Micheal and Gabriel when they came to visit Dean (and Cas) in the hospital.

“So, you’re the one who got my brother shot,” Anna says to Dean.

“Hey, he’s the one who pushed her,” Dean points out. “It’s not my fault he’s a self-sacrificing nut.”

“Says the guy who leapt heroically in front of a crazy gunwoman to save his brother,” Gabriel raises an eyebrow and takes a bite out of a  
Hersheys bar.

“Okay, so they’re both stupid,” Jo says. “Can we go to the movies now? I don’t want to miss the previews.”

Michael just stands against the wall the whole time, watching the room.

\--

“Hey Cas, what’s with the bruises on his face?” Dean asks him later as they’re playing Scrabble (Cas is winning, Dean is putting on words like ‘bed’ and ‘cat.’).

Cas shrugs, which he doesn’t do often. “That’s just Micheal. He gets into fights. Lucifer used to, too, at his age.”

“Why’d he fail senior year?”

”I don’t know. He doesn’t talk about schoolwork. He doesn’t talk about anything, really. He just goes to school, goes to work, and then comes home around 11.”

“That… sounds like a really shitty life,” Dean remarks slowly.

“I used to live like that,” Cas said, but there wasn’t any bitterness in it like Dean would expect. With Cas, there was always just ‘this-is-how-it-is.’

“Well, thank God you got shot,” Dean jokes.

Cas gives one of his rare smiles with teeth, and then puts ‘MORONIC’ down on the board.

“I believe I win.”

\--

Dean’s birthday is nothing special: Even though he’s turning eighteen, he’s not that fussed about it. He’s allowed to go home now, which is good. He can’t run, and he still has to be careful walking, but anything is better than laying in that godforsaken bed all day with daytime television.

Cas’s wound is just a thin scar at this point.

Dean sits thorough a round of: “HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, YOU LOOK LIKE A GUYWHOGOTSHOOOOT… AND YOU SMELL LIKE ONE TOO!” Lead by Ash.

Dean takes a huge slice of cake and revels in the fact that he can look up and not see the hospital ceiling. They’re in his backyard; everyone is there: Jo, Cas, Sam, Mary, John, Bobby, Ellen, Ash, and Jess and Andy because Sam invited them, and Gabriel, Anna and Micheal because Cas invited them. The only one not there is Chuck, who has gone to Harvard early, which no-one expected.

“Remember to wear a condom,” Dean hollers as Sam and Jess go inside.

“Fuck off, Dean,” Sam yells back.

“Hey! Language!” John scolds.

\--

“Get a good haul this year?” Jo asks as she flops down on Dean’s bed, pouring over the unwrapped presents.

“Ooh, an encyclopedia!” Cas is almost crooning over it.

“Yeah, that was from Sam,” Dean smirks. “You can keep it, Cas.”

Cas looks up. “Dean, I couldn’t possibly-“

“Have you ever seen me reading, Cas?”

Cas’s mouth hangs open for a second, paused on speech, and then shakes his head.

It’s weird, Dean thinks. How comfortable he is around Cas. That Cas fit. He fit in with his friends like he was always there. Normally, Dean doesn’t treat people like he treats Cas unless he’s known them for years, like Sam or Jo. But Cas just fell into place.

“So, what’re you getting Sam for his birthday?” Jo asks, sprawling out over his duvet.

“I don’t know. Gel? Haircutting scissors?” Dean grins.

“I don’t think he’d appreciate that, Dean,” Cas says solemnly, and Dean laughs and then winces.

Jo sits up. “You OK?”

“Yeah.” Dean puts hand to his stomach. “Just tell Cas to stop being funny; it’s literally killing me.”

Cas looks shocked.

“It was a joke!” Dean holds up his hands. “I’m fine, look! Not even flinching!”

“You should go into the hospital tomorrow,” Cas says. “You haven’t been for a few days.”

”I hate it there,” Dean sighs, leaning on his drawers next to Cas. “It’s like a coffin. A coffin with really bad lighting and nurses who aren’t even hot.”

”I don’t think their hotness will decide if you’ll live or die,” Jo rolls her eyes at him. “Besides, I liked that one, Missouri.”

”Yeah, she was cool,” Dean agrees. “She slapped my head too much, though. I mean, jeez. She was supposed to be healing me. The woman could have given me a concussion.”

”You deserved every single one of those slaps, Dean.” Cas smiles.

Dean blatantly pushes away the twisting sensation in his stomach that has nothing to do with the gunshot wound. With the bizzare falling-into-place-ness that happened with Cas, there was also the side effects. Like that one time Dean was having a sex dream about Cas, and then he woke up. He had realised he was in Cas’s room just in time to roll over to hide his hard-on as Cas had yawned and said, “Hello, Dean. What were you dreaming about?”

Dean had spluttered something about planes and clowns.

Then there were the nagging thoughts. Like when Cas was showing Dean something in his homework (which, honestly, was going in one  
ear and out the other) and Dean had an urge to push his hair back. Or when Cas leaned over to get cereal or something and Dean thought _God, I could just kiss him right now._

And then there was the time when they were eating cherries, and Dean had forgotten what Cas had said at the hospital, and Cas had pulled out a perfectly knotted cherry stem from his mouth and Dean had almost choked.

He shoved every thought away that didn’t revolve around friendship, but it was getting tiring.

“Hey, guys, want to watch a movie?” Sam pokes his head around the door, jolting Dean out of his thoughts.

“What movie?” Cas asks.

The fact that Cas and Sam were friends kind of unnerved Dean. Sam was 15- 16 in six weeks- and Cas was 17, and they didn’t have any classes together at school, but it didn’t seem to stop them. They chatted and laughed and geeked out over- rocks or seaweed, or something.

“Star Wars,” Sam says.

Cas and Dean stare pleadingly at Jo, who hates Star Wars with a passion.

Jo sighs. “Alright. But only because it’s your birthday, Dean.” She slaps Dean on the shoulder as she passes. “Congrats on finally being legal, by the way.” She flashes a grin. “Not like it stopped you.”

“I never wanted that image in my head, thanks, Jo,” Sam says flatly.

Everyone knows about Dean’s various sex escapades. There had been a fling with Lisa a while back, and Cassie, and Gretchen, and some drunk girl at a party once who Dean couldn’t remember the name of.

But there hasn’t been any lately, people have noticed. Not since the school year begun. Dean had admitted to himself a while back that it was because every girl he met either didn’t have black hair, or their eyes weren’t blue enough, or they didn’t stare enough. Which is really, really weird, because Dean only started even _speaking_ to Cas a month ago.

\-- 

“Mary, you coming?” John calls, and Mary comes through the door numbly.

“You got in,” Mary whispers, like she can’t believe it, and she’s smiling.

Everyone looks at her.

“What?”

“You got in,” Mary repeats. “Dean, you got in to Lincoln.”

There is a moment where everyone stops.

Then a high-pitched squealing sound comes from Jo, who nobody knew could make that kind of noise, and she tackles Dean and wraps  
his arms around him.

“I got in?” Dean repeats stupidly, and now everyone’s crowding around, hugging him, giving their congratulations.

“Yeah, you idiot!” Sam cackles.

Dean looks at Cas, who is grinning in a way that Dean hasn’t seen him do. Jo looks like she’s about to explode. Ash is having trouble keeping his mullet in check- it goes frizzy when he's excited.

Finally, it hits Dean. Lincoln is his dream university. It’s only two hours away. He’s going with his friends. He has money saved up- not enough, but he can earn more over the summer.

“Holy fuck, I got in!” He yells, and wraps Jo, Sam, Ash and Cas into a huge bear hug.

Jo had gotten her acceptance letter two days ago; Cas and Ash, the geeks they are, got in on scholarships the day before. Dean had found brouchures in Sam’s room, which he hasn’t said anything about.

So they sit watching Star Wars, eating popcorn and revelling in the fact that they are all going to be together next year- probably broke and starving and buried under mountians of homework, but together.

\--

January bleeds into Febuary, and then March, and they find themselves staring down graduation in less than a month, since seniors graduate early. Dean can move normally now; he just has a blotchy scar across his stomach.

The happy stupour doesn’t last long; and it’s pretty much all Dean’s fault. Well, maybe it’s alchohol’s fault. Dean still doesn’t really know.

“I don’t believe you.”

Cas glances at Dean, annoyed. “I’m not lying.”

”You’ve never had sex?”

”No.”

”Never?”

“No!”

“Seriously?!”

”I’ve never had occasion, okay?” Cas says in frustration, and Dean laughs.

”Okay, I just don’t find that possible. I mean, you’re a senior, and you’re- you’re not ugly, man.” He pauses, and leans back on his chair. He sighs. “Okay, screw it.” He stands up, and Cas looks at him in confusion.

“There are two things that I know for sure,” Dean announces. “One: Bert and Ernie are gay. And two: You are not going to graduate high school a virgin on my watch.” He picks up his jacket. “Okay, lets go.”

”What? Where?”

Dean just grins and taps his nose.

\--

Cas is nervous.

Okay, that’s an understatement. Cas feels like he’s going to go fucking insane. Parties, he has concluded, are the worst thing mankind has ever created; and that includes Jersey Shore.

“Dean, do we really have to?” Cas asks.

Dean looks kind of sick, but he throws on a smirk as he says, “What? Of course we do! No friend of mine is going to go to college without popping his cherry. Now,” He shoves Cas at a girl who looks like she should be doused with cold water and have her stomach pumped, “Go get ‘em.”

Cas just stands there spluttering, and the girl just looks at him.

“Cas, this is Chastity. Chastity, Cas.” Dean waves his hand at each of them in turn. “Go nuts.”

Cas notices that Dean still looks like he’s going to throw up as he stalks off.

“Hello, Chast-” Cas is cut off by the girl throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him sloppily on the mouth. There is no finnesse in her kissing: her tongue feels like a limp fish, and she reeks of vodka.

“Wanna get outta here?” She mumbles in his ear.

_No, I want to go home and read a book, thank you very much, and dear god you should take a shower._

Instead, Castiel nods like it’s a jail sentence.

\--

Dean isn’t very sure of where he is.

All he knows is that he had introduced Cas to that slutty college girl, whatever the fuck her name was (Cassidy? Catherine? Chastity! Chastity. That is such a slutty name. Dean hates Chastity.) and then ran off to get drunk, because he needs to feel numb- he doesn’t want to think of whose mouth Chastity is kissing right now; how soft Cas’s mouth probably is. Chastity probably won’t remember his name in the morning.

Dean tips his head back and chugs down half a cupful of whatever the fuck he’s drinking.

God, Cas deserves better than a one-night-stand; than a fumbled screw in the dark space of a hotel room.

Cas doesn’t even talk to girls! Not once had Dean ever seen Cas treat any girl as more than a friend.

One time, a waitress at Starbucks had tried flirting with Cas, and he had just politely ordered a coffee. And she was practically dropping her boobs in his lap.

“Is there… anything else you want?” She had practially purred.

“Could I get a scone with that?” Cas had asked.

Dean laughs out loud, remembering.

He takes another long swig, trying desperately not to think of hands untying belt buckles and the low rumble of Cas’s moans.

“Dean?”

Dean jumps, and for a second he thinks to himself I can’t be that drunk yet before he realises that it is actually Cas standing in front of him  
and not a hallucination.

“That was fast,” Dean half-slurs.

Cas frowns. “We didn’t do anything, Dean.”

”You look like you’ve been doing stuff,” Dean argues.

Cas’s lips are swollen and his hair is more ruffled than it usually is- Dean swallows the persistant urge to leap on him and ravage him.

Cas looks awkward. “We, ah, ‘made out.’ She tried to get me to bed her, but I refused.”

Dean frowns this time. Only Cas would use the phrase ‘bed her’ and make it sound arousing. He smothers his relief.

“Why’d you do that?”

He’s having trouble focusing.

Cas glares. “Unlike some people, Dean, I do not believe in being intimate with people I do not care about.”

Dean sways. “Fair enough,” He mumbles, and then falls against a wall.

Cas steadies him.

“You angry at me, Cas?” Dean is definitely slurring. “Don’t be angry at me. M’sorry. You’re a good guy. I don’t deserve you.”

Cas sighs. “Dean, you’re drunk.”

”Lookie here, we got a genius,” Dean laughs at himself, and then rolls his head to the side and throws up.

Cas leaps out of the way, but keeps his hands in Dean’s jacket so he doesn’t fall down.

“Sorry,” Dean mumbles.

“Vomiting up the alchohol decreases the risk of brain damage,” Cas says. “Which is, ah, good. I shall call a taxi.”

\--

Dean opens his eyes and it’s dark. He is lying on a bed on his side; and as he blinks blearily he realises he’s in his room.

How the fuck did he get here?

He looks around and sees Cas in a chair near the door, and the night starts coming back to him.

Did he throw up on Cas?

“You’re up,” Cas says, and Dean startles.

“So’re you,” He says. He sits up and dangles his legs off the side of the bed. “Hey, did I throw up on you?”

Cas chuckles and comes to sit beside him. “No, you didn’t. You threw up near me. It was a near miss, though.”

Dean puts a hand to his head. It feels like it’s been cracked open. “How’d I get here?”

”I called a taxi. You spent the whole ride here apoligising and saying ‘brain damage is bad.’” Cas laughs.

“Shit,” Dean rubs his eyes. “Fuck, did my parents notice?”

”No. They were asleep when we got here.”

“Thank God.” Dean rolls over and checks the clock. It’s 2 in the morning.

“You are probably still a little drunk,” Cas says. “And after that you’ll be hungover. Well, more hungover than you already are now.”

“Can’t wait,” Dean sighs. “Thanks for getting me back here, by the way. Most people would’ve left me there.”

”You are welcome,” Cas says, and Dean has a flashback of the first time they had spoken at the hospital.

Cas reaches to touch Dean’s cheekbone and Dean’s eyes widen before he hisses in pain.

“You injured yourself when you fell down,” Cas brings back his hand and there’s blood on it. “I am sorry I did not fix it when you were alsleep; I would have if I had noticed.”

”It’s cool,” Dean says. “I’ll just put some disinfectant on it and slap a bandage on; it’ll be as good as new.”

”Dean.”

”Yeah?”

”If you attempt to do either, you will probably either stab yourself in the eye or kill yourself in some other unseemly way. I will do it.”

“I’m only a bit drunk,” Dean protests, and tries to stand up to prove it, but the room swerves a bit so he sits down again.

Cas looks at him in an I-told-you-so-you-idiot kind of way before getting up to rummage in his drawers. He comes back with a bandage and disinfectant.

As he dabs it on, Dean tries to look at the left corner of his room. The colour of the ceiling really sucks, he notices. Especially in the dark. He glances at Cas, and holds his breath. His mouth doesn’t have that bitten, ravaged look anymore, and Dean kind of misses it.

He studies Cas; the contours of his cheekbones; the dip of his collarbones, the hollow of his neck. His hands are gentle and Dean’s mouth goes dry as he notices that Cas’s pupils are blown; his gaze is straying from where it should be.

Cas finishes the dressing and pulls back- there’s a strange silence, like something big has just happened.

Then it does.

Not thinking; probably due to those damn impulsive teenage hormones or some shit, Dean leans forward and presses his mouth to Cas’s.

He swallows Cas’s gasp as he does this; and Dean doesn’t have time to think to himself about what he’s doing, what he’s just done, he probably still smells like beer, oh shit, you just completely ruined it, you stupid douchebag, because Cas is kissing him back hard enough to bruise.

Dean’s hands come up to clutch at the lapels of the trenchcoat Cas is wearing, and holy fuck Cas’s lips are soft.

Cas reaches and shoves his hands through Dean’s hair, rests them at the back of his neck. His tongue sweeps across Dean’s mouth, licking it open, and Dean is shocked that Cas actually knows how to do all this. He makes a low moan in the back of his throat.

One of Dean’s hands snake around Cas’s back and pulls him onto his lap so Cas is straddling Dean’s hips.

Cas shifts closer as he does this; crushing himself to Dean. He grinds against him, and Dean shudders and moans:

“Cas-“

Cas bolts away; off of Dean, and stands up faster than he knew he could.

“Uh-“

They’re both panicking now, and Cas struggles with words even though he had been correcting Anna’s vocabulary by the age of seven, and finally chokes out:

“I should - go. Bye.” And turns and half-runs from the room, with Dean too shocked to say anything.

Dean sits there for about 10 seconds after Cas leaves before getting up and banging head head on the door repeatedly.

“Shit, shit, SHIT!”

\--

Cas takes another taxi to his house, but he can’t really remember anything until he’s going through his dad’s liquor cabinet at home. He sees vodka and lunges for it. All he can do is imagine Gabriel saying: “Two in one night? Cas, you dog.”

Chastity had been a horrible kisser. She had been wasted and she made his skin crawl. She had tasted like mothballs and beer.

Dean, however, had been unexpectedly gentle. He had thought of kissing Dean before- okay, he admitted it, he had thought about it a couple dozen times in the last few months- but Dean had shocked him. He had known about how many girls he had been with, and he had known that all of them had pretty much just been drunken flings, so the sincerity of Dean’s kissing had surprised him. The way he had touched him had been careful; hesitant, unlike how Dean usually acted.

Half an hour later, his father is frowning down at him.

“Where have you been?”

”On a _bender,_ ” Cas slurs stupidly, and swallows some more vodka.

Cas’s dad, Zachariah, frowns. “On a- Castiel, are you _drunk?”_

“Lookie here, we gotta genius,” Cas quotes Dean and it makes him want to either burst out into tears or punch something.

“Don’t you dare speak to me in that immature manner! How dare you get _drunk_ under my roof, under my rule! I explicitly told you, you: No  
alchohol. How dare you undermine my authority!” Zachariah advances on Cas, who backs into the wall.

Zachariah wasn’t like this. Well, he was like this occasionally- Cas didn’t really see him much, so he didn’t have much to compare him to. But he never got this riled up, he-

“You apoligize, you ungrateful, lazy-“ He slams his forearm into Cas’s throat so it’s pinning him to the wall.

“Apoligize!” He hisses.

“Dad-“ Cas chokes.

“Don’t you dare undermine me. You are a maggot inside a worm’s ass. You are nothing,” Zachariah snarls. “You will not rebel, as long as you abide under my roof, you will play by my rules, you stupid little fuck.”

Castiel is shaking. “Dad, I-“

“DO NOT TALK BACK TO ME!” Zachariah roars, and slaps Castiel across the face. He pulls back his arm, the one that was pinning Cas down, and swings it full-force at him.

It catches him in the cheek and Cas goes stumbling sideways, still in shock. The next punch he is prepared for; he dodges it. The next one hits him in the chin, and then the stomach, and then the stomach again; somewhere near the liver. He falls against the wall, pulling up his hands to protect himself.

“HEY!” Gabriel is suddenly there, and Zachariah turns just in time to receive a fist in the face. Anna stands near the door with her hands over her mouth as Gabriel shoves Zachariah roughly. “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?”

Anna runs to Castiel’s side, and Cas struggles to breathe; the air had fled his lungs when he had been punched in the stomach.

“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” Zachariah screams. “YOU LITTLE SHITS DO NOTHING BUT SUCK MONEY FROM MY WALLET; YOU ARE LEECHES; MISTAKES!”

Michael appears in the doorway breathlessly.

Zachariah doesn’t notice. “YOU WILL NOT LIVE IN THIS HOUSE UNLESS YOU OBEY MY RULES!” He charges at Castiel, who Anna is holding up, but Michael runs at him and tackles him to the ground.

They struggle; Zachariah’s fist catches Michael once in the face, but Gabriel yanks Michael off him and they retreat. Zachariah gets up as  
Anna is rushing Castiel out the door. They slam the door in Zachariah’s furious face and leave him to scream in his empty house.

“Oh, god,” Anna is crying. “Oh, god, Castiel, your face! I’ll kill him!”

”No-one’s killing anyone,” Michael says, always the leader. “Now, we have to take Castiel to the hospital, and then find another place to stay for the ni-“

“Your face,” Cas says.

“What?” Michael turns to him.

”Your face,” Castiel repeats. “You always come home looking like you’ve been beaten. You never did when Lucifer was home. He came home beaten instead.”

Gabriel and Anna are staring at Michael now.

“But you don’t come home beaten,” Castiel continues, and Michael’s face is stiff.

“It happens at home. Dad hit Lucifer, didn’t he? And then when Lucifer finally left, you took over.”

Michael doesn’t say anything. He just tightens his jaw; the side with the bruise on it.

“Goddamn it, Michael!” Gabriel throws his hands in the air. “You should’ve told us!”

”He promised not to hit any of you if he just got to hit me,” Michael says tonelessly, which stops Gabriel cold.

“You should’ve passed high school,” Anna whispers. “You’ve always been the smartest out of all of us.” She glares at him. “You failed for us? You actually stayed home, gave up college and everything you ever wanted so Dad would hit you and not us? You’re actually that much of an idiot?”

“You’re family,” Michael says, and meets her gaze like they’re talking about the weather.

“Michael, you dick,” Gabriel’s eyes are shiny as he throws his arms around him, hugging him hard.

Michael looks surprised for a second, before hugging him back fiercely.

\--

“I’m gonna kill him,” Dean says for about the fifth time, his teeth clenched.

“Everyone’s been saying that lately,” Castiel sighs.

And everyone had. Pretty much everyone that had found out what Zachariah had been doing had the same reaction.

Mary had actually gotten into her car to drive over. John had had to jump in front of the hood to stop her.

Castiel had been diagnosed with two bruised ribs, a slight concussion, a split lip and multiple bruises.

Cas had slept through everyone flipping out over seeing him: apparently Dean had seen him, gone pale and then had had the same reaction as his mother, with Sam in place of John.

“I’m sorry for running away,” Cas blurts.

Dean swallows. “It’s okay. But, a tip for the future: don’t do it again, it kinda hurts a guy’s confidence.” Dean laughs, but it’s hollow.

Cas blames the drugs for what he does next, but he does it anyway: he loops a hand around Dean’s neck, pulls him down and kisses him.  
It’s a chaste kiss and it only lasts two seconds, but it sends shivers down Castiel’s drug-induced nerves.

He pulls back and Dean looks surprised.

“Um,” Dean says.

Cas wants to hit himself. “I apoligize. I promise not to do it again.”

“No, no!” Dean almost shouts, and then cringes and lowers his voice back to normal volume. “I- that was great. I mean, honestly, man, keep it up.” He gives himself a mental slap for what seems like the last of far too many.

Cas just blinks at him.  
“I- look, Cas, I really like you,” Dean’s face is burning. He wants the hospital floor to open up and swallow him. “I’ve just had some trouble- I don’t know, adjusting to this massive urge to ravage you every freaking time you breathe.”

Cas’s eyes widen at that, and Dean wishes for a time machine.

“It seems we have been both struggling for the same cause,” Castiel says in a small, surprised voice.

They grin nervously at each other, but it’s Dean’s who falters first.

“Okay, Cas, I gotta ask,” He sighs and rubs his hands together, and Cas feels dread smack into his thoughts.

”Why the hell did you save me that day in the cafeteria?”

Cas almost faints in relief. “Because you’re wo-“

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean interrupts. “But you didn’t even know me back then, Cas! Fuck, why-“

“Dean,” This time, Cas interrupts, looking at him with his ‘Dean-Winchester-you-are-an-idiot’ look which he has been using all too much lately.

He hesitates before he starts. “The first time I saw you, you were getting out of your car with Sam. You were laughing.”

He smiles at the memory.

“The first word to came to my head was ‘soft.’ Because you are anything but, most of the time. You draw attention. You are… reckless, and full of edges. You are crass and stubborn. You have an annoyingly stabbing case of backtalk, which will probably get you arrested some day.”

He hesitates.

“But there are times when… like when you’re with your brother. Or when your mother hugs you and your smile gets looser. Your freckles, and the way you treat your car, and how you call me Cas. It’s like you fill with light, like…”

He exhales loudly, running a hand through his hair.

“I watched you, those first few months of school. I only saw snapshots, but I could see you, clear as day. Even before I spoke to you, even before I knew you, I… I knew you were good.”

He finally looks at Dean, after having avoiding his gaze the whole time he was talking.

“I saved you that day because you, Dean Winchester, are worth saving.”

Dean almost lunges forward, putting his hand at the back of Cas’s head and kissing him feircely.

They kiss like that for a while; long enough not to notice Jo freaking out; pointing and jumping up and down hysterically from on the other side of the glass wall.

\--

At the start of the summer, Ash, Jo, Cas and Dean decide to take a year off before college and go on a road trip for a year; going around America in the Impala with the money they have saved.

Dean wants one of the stops to be at the Grand Canyon.

Anna and Gabriel go to Cornell University, and Michael goes to Stanford. The last time they talked to him, he had been making an unlikely friendship with Chuck.

Ash and Jo ride in the backseat and Cas and Dean ride in front; all of them argue what to put on the radio after they have enough of Dean’s Metellica.

Ash and Jo book separate rooms to Cas and Dean; the first time they did they winked saucily at Cas before running off to their own room.

“What was that about?” Cas had frowned.

“Nothing, they’re just being dicks,” Dean had sighed.

If Jo and Ash hear anything about the woman getting up at 3 a.m. to complain to Dean and Cas to keep it down, they don’t say anything.

One day, on a Sunday in September, after freaking Sam out about the first day of Junior Year- (“You are going to die, man. There will be so much homework. You will _die.”)_ Cas goes into the shop for some Red Bull; a drink no-one expected Cas to like but he does anyway.

Dean leans on the hood of his Impala, listening to Ash and Jo sing along to ‘Hot Blooded.’

Cas comes out of the shop; gravel and lightning, full of blue, sitting next to Dean in the Impala and lying lazily next to him in shitty motels.

Dean kisses him before they get in the car.

“Hey, Cas,” he says, and falls.


End file.
